


The Art of Losing Isn't Hard to Master

by Bludhaven



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Family Issues, M/M, UST, runaway teen, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bludhaven/pseuds/Bludhaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian finally reaches the end of his rope with Bruce, and decides he no longer wants anything to do with him. Family is meaningless to the teenager, but his ties with Dick Grayson remind him that friendship isn’t entirely foreign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set slightly in the future. In my headcanon, Dick is 27 while Damian is 10. In this fic, Dick is 34 and Damian is aged up to whatever you feel like reading him as. Bruce is Batman, Dick is Nightwing and Damian is still Robin.

"I need to find him."

"I know, I know," Dick sighed into his earpiece and sat down at the edge of a rooftop for a five minute break from patrol.

"This isn't a light matter, Dick." The response was terse. "It must be resolved immediately."

"What happened this time? Don't you have some sort of tracker on him?"

"No," came Bruce's reply assuming the first question was rhetoric. "All of the suits are here, his cellphone is in his room though the dog is gone."

"Titus? Maybe Damian just took him out for a walk."

"No."

Dick clenched his jaw. Every time, Bruce brought him in between the constant disagreements he had with his son. It reminded Dick of his personal days as Robin and the feuds he also had with Bruce. "So, somethingdidhappen. Just let him be, he'll turn up eventually. He always does."

"Check everywhere he might possibly be. Report immediately if found."

Bruce's side of the line cut out before any response could be made. To the air, Dick responded anyway, "Of course, because if either of us can find the kid it's going to be me."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It wasn't intentional. Dick hadn't planned on searching Damian out, he trusted the teenager to manage himself. It just so happened that Damian was around when and where he was.

After the call, Dick had felt frustrated with Bruce. As a teenager, he had a rebellious stage with Bruce and it didn't end well at all. Damian was growing older and Dick knew something similar would happen within him as well. It was only a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. All Damian needs is for someone to trust that he is capable and independent. The only thing Bruce trusts is himself and his authority. It was only a matter of time before Damian got tired of running into brick walls and would try to break free.

Dick continued on with his regular patrols, but kept Damian at the back of his mind. It was a usual night, uneventful and easy. There were a couple of domestic violence scenes, a mugging, a hit and run... he was following a suspected robbery for a few rooftops before a more pressing matter was presented to Dick.

If it weren't for the dog, Dick might have passed him entirely. But there Damian was walking down an empty alley, perhaps aimlessly, with his hood up and earbuds playing. Titus loyally walked beside his master, butting his head on the underside of Damian's hand every few strides.

It wasn't too hard to track both Damian and the robber. They were both headed in separate directions, but neither were in a hurry. Dick suspected the robber was headed to a car parked in an alley only a block away. It only took one minute and 37 seconds to take him out and the four men in the car, zip tie them all and call the cops to inform them they could collect the money and the suspects. It took another two minutes and 49 seconds to catch up with Damian.

"Hey, Dee."

There was no response, the teenager kept walking. But, Dick decided to do what he does best, and that's to put on a cheerful face and continue being friendly. Titus looked up to Dick as he walked alongside the dog and his master.

"Dami-"

"Go away," said Damian, cutting Dick off before anything could be said. He picked up his pace a little to clarify that he wanted to be left alone. Brushing off someone like Dick can be difficult, and the older man continued to follow the teen. "I know father is looking for me. He sent you after me, correct?"

"No," Dick huffed. "Well... yes, but no. He called to say you'd left without your phone or anything, but I have no intention of ratting you out. He doesn't need to know."

Damian finally slowed to a stop. Titus obediently sat, looking concernedly up at the two of them. There was a moment that felt long and tense where nothing happened, but finally Damian turned to look up to his ex-partner's face. The expression Dick found was apathetic and unreadable.

Dick continued, "I mean, I know you can handle yourself. I'm not going to treat you like a little kid. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Youareokay, right?"

"Yes," Damian responded and turned to continue walking. "And I do not need anyone's help."

"You know my doors are always open, whether you want it or not. I don't know what happened tonight but if you decide you don't want to go back then it's something for you to consider." Dick left it at that, and left Damian to clear his head in peace.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The bedside clock blinked 3:42 AM by the time Dick made it back to his apartment and stripped off his uniform. Bruce had called after Dick had found Damian on the streets. Dick is a bad liar, and Bruce called three additional times to confirm that Damian had not been seen.

Naked, Dick flopped back on the bed and sighed. He did wonder where Damian was going and where he was now. He didn't want to worry about Damian, but he definitely did. The two of them had grown somewhat distant over the past couple of years, but Dick still felt there was some friendship left from when they were Batman and Robin. Without Damian, Dick didn't believe he'd have survived the cowl. If there was anything he could do to help Damian in any way...

Dick knew how hard it was dealing with Bruce. The day Dick walked away was the best of his life. He went through so many things in his teenage years. What Damian must be going through, being Bruce's own blood, Dick could only imagine.

The dark clouds covering the night sky rumbled and rain began to pour. Wherever Damian was, Dick hoped it was out of the weather and somewhere safe.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A cloud banging noise startled him awake. Blearily, Dick glanced at the clock which (probably) read 4:40. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched his neck, wondering confusedly for a moment what woke him-

Damian.

Dick rolled out of bed and threw a pair of sweats on and bolted to the door. When he opened it, the sound of thick rain was apparent. As he thought, it was Damian. His white sweatshirt was now gray with rain, and Titus shook water all over the tiled doorway. The teenager greeted shakily, "Grayson."

"Shit, Dee, you're soaked," Dick muttered and pulled the younger man inside. "I'll get you a towel and some spares, hold on."

It took him a few minutes to find anything clean. Dick sure owned a hell of a lot of sweatpants and sweatshirts but most were laying soiled on his bedroom floor. He took a mental note to do his laundry later.

Damian had migrated to the bathroom where he was throwing his wet clothing into the tub. As Dick handed over the fresh clothing, he couldn't help but glance over Damian. He was definitely growing, taller than Dick himself now but not quite as filled out yet. It was obvious he was going to be large and muscular, thanks to Bruce's genetics.

"I'll leave some bedding on the couch for you. It's a pretty comfortable couch, too. Help yourself to anything you need, take a shower and get some sleep and I'll see you in the mornin'."

"Thank you, Grayson."

"Are you ever going to start calling me Dick?" he mumbled in reply as he headed back to bed. Hopefully, Damian would be more talkative after getting some rest and Dick could get to the bottom of this.


	2. Chapter 2

_Everything was going just fine. It was just like every other night. Batman and Robin were in the middle of a very intense drug bust. There were about 20 traffickers - give or take - but Damian didn't have the time to count them all. As usual, Batman was after the head honcho_ _and the rest were left to Robin. Ass kicking was happening and it was an intensely fast paced battle. In no time the men were left to the floor, most were unconscious but a few groaning and writhing in pain._

_It was enough to get Damian's adrenaline running a little bit, but was a disappointing walk in the park at the same time. Robin turned to Batman, who had pinned the last man to the wall and was attempting to get information out of him. But the man wasn't talking, possibly had the words intimidated right out of him. He was obviously shaking and unsteady._

_That's when Damian saw it - the man's twitching fingers heading for the back of his belt. Before he realized what he was doing, Damian dived in lightning fast. The gun wasn't concealed very well. Damian pulled it out without any issue and aimed it at the man, and he said "Not so fast, you imbecile."_

_"_ ROBIN! _" growled Batman, who turned to glare at his partner._

_It was in that split second of distraction that a knife was struck across Batman's jaw and the drug lord broke free. He ran for safety but Damian was going to have none of it. A loud bang rang through the empty warehouse and the man fell to the floor._

_Just in time, the authorities arrived and Batman apparently decided that they could handle the rest themselves. Robin was grabbed by the hood and dragged outside. When he decided they were somewhere private enough, Batman shoved Robin up against a wall and snarled in his face. "What was that for?!"_

_"He ran. And he got you in the face. He was dangerous," Damian replied._

_"That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't distracted me with your reckless behavior."_

_"I'm so sorry you were distracted by your own distrust. Unfortunately, I can't help you with that." The apology was less than sincere from Damian._

_Batman ignored the comment. "You've used too much excessive force. On all of them."_

_"Shooting a running man in the leg is 'excessive force,' but breaking someone's arm to keep them from punching isn't. Your moral code isn't particularly flawless,_ Batman _."_

_"You know I detest the use of guns," said Batman. Damian only glared in response. Bruce sighed but released his grip on his son. Quietly, he added, "how am I to trust you?"_

_"_ You can't _," came Damian's reply through gritted teeth. "There's nothing I can do to get you to trust me. Finish patrol without me, I'm heading back. You and I have never worked as a team and I'm done with it."_

_Not another word was spoken between them._

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Damian was naturally a light sleeper and woke immediately when Dick came quietly crashing through the kitchen for a bowl of cereal. The teenager huffed and shoved his head underneath the pillow. Even then, each crunch was clear as day through the empty apartment.

"Morning, Dee. I'm heading out for a run, wanna come?" There was no response. "Guess it's just Titus and I then!"

Dog nails across the linoleum could be heard as Dick left with the dog, the door clicking behind them. Damian wondered briefly how a bowl of cereal could be inhaled that quickly and went back to sleep a moment later.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

He was woken later by Dick's return. Titus hopped into the couch and curled up by Damian's feet. Damian finally decided it was time to get up. He felt groggy from oversleep, still exhausted and slightly sore.

"Hey," Dick said cheerfully and plopped himself heavily into the couch beside Damian. He rummaged through his pocket for a second before handing over a cellphone and an mp3 player. "Figured you'd want these so I got 'em for you."

"Thank you, Grayson." The thanks came out a little rough and Damian had to clear his throat.

"Whoah, you feel alright? You do look kinda pink," Dick said and ran the pad of his thumb across Damian's cheekbone. He was always a so touchy.

Damian furrowed his brow and pulled back slightly. "I'm fine, there's no need to-"

"Let me worry anyway." He pressed his hand to Damian's forehead. The younger man only sighed and rolled his eyes. There was genuine conern in his voice when Dick asked, "You'd tell me if you weren't feeling well right? No headache?"

"You are so overbearing." Damian decidedly distracted himself with his cellphone, which had 48 messages left from his father. Suffering Dick was not the worst thing Damian could be going through at that moment. "You didn't... say anything to my father?"

"No." Dick shook his head and sat back in the couch. "Alfred knows I took it, but Bruce wasn't even around."

"He'll find out anyway. What then?"

"Then I'll trust you make the right decision. You're your own person and I trust your judgement. Like I said, my doors are always open to you." The older man smiled softly and shrugged.

Damian was thankful for Dick. He was the only person in Damian's life that he wasn't always at odds with. Without his laidback and open personality, Damian wasn't sure who he could rely on whenever he fell into situations like the one he was currently in with Bruce. It was good for him to know that Dick was prepared to handle things if it didn't go the way Bruce wanted or planned.

Sometimes, Damian yearned for the days when he patrolled the streets as Robin with Dick in the Batman suit beside him. They were a team with a dynamic that couldn't be matched. There's never any equality or acknowledgement from Bruce, and Dick definitely understood that as well.

"I used a gun," said Damian bluntly. With everything Dick's done over the years for Damian, he at least deserved to know what happened. Dick put on his 'oh!' face but stayed quiet. Damian's jaw tensed for a moment but he soon added, "I didn't kill-"

"Of course you didn't," Dick spoke suddenly, cutting Damian off. "I know you wouldn't."

A small sigh of relief escaped Damian before he knew it. He didn't need to continue explaining himself. Dick knew Bruce and Damian both well enough that even his wildest guess of what happened during that patrol would be spot on. He laid a hand on Damian's knee in understanding silence as he heaved himself out of the couch.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The rest of the day was, for the most part, uneventful. Damian spent it tinkering around on the laptop and pretending to be a typical teenager while Dick went out for errands.

Titus' ears perked as the locks rattled in the door. Damian ignored it. Dick threw his keys loudly into a small bowl full of change and other small items and he went to the kitchen with several bags of groceries he'd just purchased. Without a word, Damian slipped out of the couch and went to help put everything where it belonged.

"Thanks! So what've you been doing all day?" asked Dick. He only got a silent shrug in return. "How about we have a movie night? I was supposed to have one with Tim tonight but he cancelled." He pouted. It was even audible in his voice.

Damian glanced at Dick, his eyes narrowed. "No way." It wasn't a secret he hated the movie nights his father always forced him to endure.

"Aw, come on! My taste in movies isn't as bad as Bruce's."

Eventually, Dick got his way. He had a way of getting Damian to stop protesting. The younger man didn't say no a second time, but by all means he didn't say yes at all.

As he got comfortable in the couch, Damian heaved a sigh as Dick popped a typically awful movie into the DVD player. A bowl of popcorn was handed to him, even though he was not very fond of the snack. The movie was some sort of romantic comedy about a race car driver falling in love with a horse racing jockey. If love was this sappy, Damian didn't want anything of it.

It didn't take long for Dick to fall asleep, snuggled into the corner of the couch. Damian rolled his eyes, but he had forseen this happening. Otherwise Dick would have had much more trouble convincing him to sit it out.

Quietly, Damian rummaged through a bag that Dick had brought back from the manor. He switched out Dick's sweats he'd been wearing for a clean set of his usual clothes. From Dick's lap he softly took the empty popcorn bowl and placed it on the kitchen counter, and wrapped a throw blanket around his shoulders.

And without a sound he was out the door, his loyal hound at his heel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is late! I got super busy and also had a case of writer's block. And then I lost half of the chapter and had to rewrite it... It's longer though!

The door opened before he even reached the top of the stairs. Alfred Pennyworth held the door for the young man. "Welcome home, sir."

"It never really felt like home here," Damian mumbled mostly to himself. It was true, he was much more comfortable back in the Batman and Robin days he had with Dick at the penthouse. The high class of the manor was alright in Damian's mind, but much outdated for his own personal tastes. The company offered to him here also left much to be desired.

He headed straight to his room, gathering the most important effects. It was no surprise that Alfred followed him and lingered in the doorway. "Master Bruce is not currently in, but he should be returning soon. Until then, how may I be of service?"

Alfred was used to the silent treatment and thought nothing of it when it was received from Damian then. Unquestioning as he was, unaware he was not and he had realized the teenager had probably made the decision to leave.

"I shall tend to the dog's needs, then!" said Alfred and he left to fill Titus' dish.

Damian rushed to grab his most important items and threw them into a bag. If he was determined enough, he could beat Bruce and be out of there before his father had returned. But something in the back of his mind _wanted_ that last word. He knew it was childish of himself, but he needed to be clear with Bruce where they stood now. It was only wishful thinking that he could shut his father out completely anyway, he'd have to deal with it sooner or later and it would be best on his own terms.

The last item was packed away and the bag was zipped shut. Everything else was replaceable and Damian would leave them.

It only took a moment of lingering before a familiar figure was at the doorway. Damian didn't need to see him to feel his presence behind him and he tensed in the shoulders. Bruce announced himself with a quiet clearing of his throat.

"Father," said Damian without turning around.

"Packing?" There was hardly a question in his voice. He knew damian well enough by now to know what the teenager was doing. There was a tense moment of silence before he stepped over to the bed near where Damian was standing with his bag and he sat down on the edge facing his son.

"You should have called." In response the boy only snorted. Bruce's jaw clenched for a brief moment. "You are my son, Damian, and it's my duty to ensure that you are safe and sound."

"So says the man who recruits children in his quest for self justification," Damian spat.

Bruce had become very tense. It took everything in himself to keep calm, and by the looks of it it was the same for Damian. Bruce responded, "It wasn't I who gave Robin to you. I recall it something you wanted for yourself. Given the choice, I'm not certain I would have given it to you at all. I'm only trying to look out for you and you make it very difficult with your recklessness."

"There you go with my _'recklessness'_ again. You simply don't trust my judgement,  you never have. You do not agree with my ways of thinking. Batman and Robin aside, I came here looking for _family_ and I was sorely mistaken when I thought I'd find it here."

"I'm only trying to live up to your expectations of me, so help me out, Damian," Bruce said with frustration. There was a long, intense moment between them where nothing was said but everything was felt. They each clashed with the other in so many ways, but it all came down to the fact that they were both alike. Father and son, one in the same.

"Don't bother," Damian finally spoke and turned to leave. "We've never gotten along. We _can't_ get along. Not as a family nor as a team. I don't belong here. I'm going to make my way somewhere else."

"What about the team?" Bruce called after his son as he stormed down the stairs with his bag over his shoulder.

Damian paused with his hand on the door, but didn't turn. He stared intently at the knob as he replied, "What team? I can't be Robin on my own so I suppose this will be my resignation."

And he was gone before Bruce could reply.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It was beyond late when he returned to the apartment. The door was locked several different ways. He didn't have a key but he knew Dick had the place on some sort of surveillance system Oracle had set up so his presence was already known. Damian helped himself in - there's not much that could have actually kept him out - and stepped into the small entryway.

"Welcome back," a voice called, muffled through several walls. Dick soon popped out of a dark doorway in nothing but his spandex shorts. "Wondered where you went."

Damian paused, staring at his ex partner for a moment. He almost let his mouth go dry but he soon spoke and said, "I've informed my father that I will not be returning 'home.' I refuse to stay at the manor with him any longer."

". . . Where will you go, then?" Dick asked softly after a long moment of silence between them.

An obvious look of frustration crossed the younger man's face. To be honest with himself, Damian hadn't actually thought this plan through in its entirety. Young people make rash decisions. It's only a part of being human but Bruce expected more than human out of everyone around him and Damian expected more out of himself. It was these impossible expectations that brought them to this point.

"I don't want to impose-"

"Stop that," Dick interrupted Damian mid-sentence. "If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have let you in."

Damian only sighed and turned his gaze to the floor. He looked tired, his shoulders slumped where he stood and exhaustion screamed through his spine.

"Hey," the older man said softly. Dick closed the space between them and wrapped an arm around Damian's shoulders. The teenager was already a hair taller than the other and still growing. Damian was limp in Dick's hold as he steered Damian into the kitchen. "Have you even eaten today?" Dick asked, though the question was rhetorical. Either way he was getting fed.

He pulled the kitchen chair out and Damian slumped into it, putting his arms on the table and shoving his face into them. The past two days had really caught up to him, though he wasn't one to let stress overtake.

Dick busied himself with serving Damian a Grayson Classic meal; cereal. It was the meal to end all meals in Dick's world and nothing could make him feel better quite like a bowl of wheat-o's and 1%. Perhaps Damian wasn't the same, but in any case Dick wasn't much of a cook and there wasn't a lot of other options in his kitchen. He slid the bowl across the table to tap Damian in the elbow softly. Damian didn't move.

"Come on, eat up." Dick slid his fingers through Damian's short, jet black hair and behind one of his ears. Damian shivered lightly and batted a hand at Dick.

"Alright, alright." He sat up and cradled his arms around the bowl in front of him, slowly spooning himself a bite. "You've done enough for me, Grayson."

"I just wanna make sure you're okay," Dick said and shrugged lightly.

"I'm fine."

"You look pale," Dick told Damian. He put a hand to Damian's forehead again. "You spent so long in the rain yesterday..."

"I'm Damian Wayne, I do not get sick."

Dick smiled. That was more like it. "I'm going out on patrol tonight, I won't be back until super late. Feel free to take the bed."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Exhausted, Damian did decide on the bed after all. Dick's bed was soft and comfortable and had too many pillows and blankets. It had been a long time since Damian had slept in it, not since Bruce would send him over for Dick to "babysit."

The flannel was soft against his bare upper body as he climbed in and shifted into a comfortable spot. The pillow engulfed his head and Damian had to squish it a little in order to breathe. But it wasn't long until he was content and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and attempted to sleep.

As tired as he was, sleep didn't come easy. He couldn't seem to shut his brain off and he huffed in frustration. All he could do was think about his frustration with his father and it filled him with a mild anxiety. What was he going to do away from the manor? Where was he going to go? What would he do without Batman and Robin?

He basically gave up Robin when he walked away from the manor. Fitting, Damian thought. He was Robin, a bird, living in a cage known as Wayne Manor. But now he was free and he didn't quite know where to fly. Damian figure it out sooner or later, but for now he much needed sleep.

Rolling onto his back, Damian attempted meditation. He pulled the covers over his head and tried to empty his mind. For a moment it worked and he was temporarily thoughtless. His weight sank into the soft bed and he let his consciousness drift from him. But it was interrupted by a different train of thought.

Damian's soft breathing heated up quickly under the sheets. It smelled mildly sweet and definitely musky - not bad at all, in fact in a way it smelled quite nice. It smelled like Dick. Lazy as the other man was, Damian wasn't surprised the sheets hadn't been changed. The thought should've been off putting, but instead Damian found he didn't mind at all. He rolled onto his stomach and inhaled the scent lingering on the pillows.

Suddenly his mind was overpowered by a million thoughts all at once, all of them about Dick Grayson. Damian told himself _no,_ but his mind wouldn't listen. He prided himself on his self control but sometimes it simply eluded him. There were many times he found himself just thinking about Dick but he chalked it up to his teenaged hormones. There was no way he could have a crush on his ex-partner. Supposedly, a crush only lasts for 3 months and it had already been much longer than that. The alternative wasn't any better though...

 _Damn_ that Grayson for being so good smelling, so attractive in his skin tight spandex and so half naked. Damian grabbed an extra pillow and shoved it over his head, his fingers gripped tight. The tips of his limbs tingled and he could feel the blood flowing through his veins. It reminded him of the way he felt when Dick's fingers grazed the outer shell of his ear, and everything electrified.

Damian pretended not to want Dick's touch. The older man was so touchy feely and Damian always batted him away, but in truth it was just a show. He didn't like to feel needy and he _didn't_ need the touch of others. That didn't mean he didn't _want_ it though.

He huffed and tossed the pillow off the end of the bed in frustration. His whole body was on fire and his belly tingled. Damian was increasingly aware of the growing erection he had pressing into the mattress. Rolling over, he could feel his face heating up and he became increasingly frustrated with himself. It was just something his body needed, he told himself. It had nothing to do with Dick. That was silly, stupid.

There was a box of tissues on the nightstand, he noticed. Then he wondered if Dick used them for post-masturbation clean up. " _FUCK_ ," Damian growled at himself maturely. But he couldn't stop himself from his own wandering mind. With a sigh he gave into it.

It felt awkward and wrong. Damian just wanted to get it over with. Maybe it'd help him sleep. He could go deal with his erection in the bathroom but it'd be easier and faster here, where it smelled like he wanted it to and the warmth was relaxing. His hand slid underneath the waistband of his sweats and he touched himself.

"Goddamnit," he said to the empty room. Damian sighed and leaned his head back and tried to clear his mind as he stroked himself.

But it wasn't enough.

Damian paused to spit in his palm and went back to work. He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Various thoughts of Dick ran through his mind as he fucked his own hand. For a moment, it was Dick's hand; then it was his face, his mouth, his ass, his penis. Was he even gay? Had he had sex with another man? Would he consider having sex with Damian, who was years younger?

Spitting into his free hand, Damian prodded himself and slipped a finger into his ass. Everything in him electrified whenever Dick touched him even if it was a small gesture. Damian wanted to know how intense it would feel if it were Dick doing this to him instead of himself.

It didn't take too long. With a loud grunt and a "Ssshit," Damian came. The afterglow was ruined, riddled with shame and he didn't spend much time trying to revel in it. Damian quickly cleaned up and rolled over with his heart and chest heavy with irritation and frustration.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working 18 hours a day sucks balls. I missed writing. This ends in the next chapter! I’ll try not to take so long to get that one out.

Damian finally woke at slightly past 2 PM. He’d slept in, something he hadn’t done in ages. It seemed like it should’ve helped with the teenager’s stress levels, but really it only made him feel more tired and slightly groggy.

Slowly he sat up. Everything was a mess; he was tangled in the sheets and the pillows were on the floor. Damian’s chest felt heavy again when his mind cleared and he remembered the moments before he’d finally slept. ‘Stupid,’ he told himself in his head because he never spoke to himself out loud.

Channeling his annoyance into energy, he finally climbed out of bed and fixed things proper. The bed was made, the box of tissues set back where they were, tissues were thrown away.

This wasn’t going to last forever. He couldn’t keep intruding in Dick’s space. Damian was going to need his own place. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, he settled himself into the couch with a laptop and began hunting for a suitable apartment.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A few hours later, Damian had an adequate list of apartments and condos. It would take his entire next day to inspect them all.

When he checked the clock again it was nearing 7 PM. Damian furrowed his brow. Dick had said he’d “be late” but hadn’t clarified. At first, Damian had suspected he’d stayed somewhere else - perhaps at Oracle’s - but Dick was never the type to just disappear without a note.

Damian pulled out his cellphone and tried all the numbers. Dick didn’t respond to any of them. Next Damian called Oracle.

“Oracle. Do you have a location on Nightwing?”

There was a moment’s pause. She replied, “Yes. Looks like an apartment building off of Oakwood Ave, 2868.”

“Not traveling?”

“He appears to be stationary. To my knowledge he’s been there since last night, I figured he was staying with someone.” Oracle’s curiosity could be heard through the line.

“Not to my knowledge,” Damian responded but it was entirely possible. Dick tended to have many… contacts. “He hasn’t answered any phone calls. If you can contact him via his mask then put me through.”

The second Damian could hear the static of Nightwing’s mask communicator, Dick was already speaking to him. “Hey, D.”

“You said late, but this is quite beyond late.”’

“Aww, are you worried about me?” Dick asked, genuinely touched. Damian rolled his eyes, and though he couldn’t see it Dick knew it was happening. “Got a little held up. I could use a lift.”

“Car? Ambulance? Hearse?” Not only could Dick hear the annoyance in Damian’s voice, he could _feel it_.

“Uhh, not sure my car’s in working order right now. The bike’s fine. I could use a pair of civvies too.”

“I’m on my way.” And he hung up before Dick could respond.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Something was up, and Damian knew it. He was there in no time flat. When he found Nightwing, he was leaning up against the brick wall in a back alley, resting. He startled to complete awareness when Damian dropped a duffel bag with Dick’s clothing in it next to the vigilante.

Nothing was said, but there were no words required between them. Dick could read Damian like an open book and as much as he tried to hide it, Dick was well aware of his concern.

“I messed my knee up again,” Dick said and cursed his plagued joint as he got up to change out of his costume.

“So then what? You just nap in an alley?” Damian asked angrily. He could see how swollen Dick’s right knee had become, even through the black kevlar.

“Pretty much,” shrugged Dick as he pulled some sweats over his spandex.

“Stupid!”

“Yeah, I know.” Dick peeled his mask off and shoved it and his gloves into the duffel bag, which he slung over his shoulder to indicate he was ready to head home.

“You look tired,” Damian said, glancing over Dick’s face for a moment.. He hated the way he was obviously concerned. “Are you sure you’re alright for a motorcycle ride?”

Dick said nothing but strapped his helmet on anyway. Damian furrowed his brow at Dick but followed suit and slung his leg over the bike. Carefully, Dick climbed on board behind him. They’d done this before many times but Damian wasn’t sure he’d ever noticed how close it brought them.

He willed his hormones to ignore the way Dick was leaning into his back, his tired limbs wrapping around his waist. Something in his stomach stirred when Dick rested his chin on Damian’s shoulder. He barely managed to clear his mind and concentrated on getting them home.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Everything in Dick’s body ached as he dismounted the bike. Damian took the bag from him and they started up the stairs to the apartment, but Dick’s knee screamed the entire way. It was awful the way he winced and grunted with every step.

Damian turned and saw the struggle. He took pity on Dick and descended the stairs back to him. Without a word, he hooked an arm behind the older man’s knees and lifted him up, carrying him the rest of the stairs.

“I’m not that pitiful, am I?” Dick said but wrapped an arm around Damian’s neck without protest.

“Of course you are,” Damian replied with a soft smile. Dick slumped against him and sighed. There was a short comfortable silence between them, and when they got to the apartment Damian held him there as he undid the locks and opened the door.

Once they were inside, Damian carried him to the bedroom. “Remember when I’d carry you around like this?” Dick asked.

“Yes.” Damian gingerly laid him on the bed. He often thought about the days when Dick was Batman. Maybe Dick thought about them often too. When his back hit the mattress, Dick melted into it. His arms stayed where they were, wrapped around Damian’s neck. “Grayson…”

“Nap with me, D,” he said and tugged Damian down to the bed. It wasn’t strong, but Damian went with it anyway. He groaned in protest, but Dick was already slinking an arm over him and he buried his face in Damian’s neck. Dick sighed heavily, his breath warm and thick against Damian’s skin as he exhaled. Damian’s throat felt tight and he tensed up, fingers digging into the soft comforter. He didn’t trust himself to say anything, but it didn’t matter because Dick was already asleep.

In resignation, Damian shifted to get more comfortable with Dick half way on top of him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and distracted himself with whatever mindless game could keep his interest the longest.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Eventually, Dick’s soft breath on his neck lulled Damian into sleep. His phone was still open in his hand when his eyes slid open again. Dick was fast asleep against him and Damian realized it was his soft snoring that woke him. He tried to get up without bothering Dick, but the older man was so comfortably on top of him that it wasn’t possible.

Dick unconsciously rolled over and winced, hissing loudly as the pain in his knee brought him back to awareness. Damian laid a hand on his thigh in concern. “It’s that bad?”

A loud, frustrated sigh left Dick as he silently began to peel his costume off, piece by piece until he was in nothing but his briefs. The teenager helped and pulled the spandex from his right leg so that Dick didn’t have to bend that knee. Now that it was bare there was obviously extensive damage to the knee; there was a large bruise nearly wrapping around the joint and blood was dripping from a deep cut that had re-opened. “What did you do?” Damian asked, his hand gingerly wrapping around Dick’s calf.

“I just slipped, is all,” Dick replied. Damian glanced at him, disbelieving. It wasn’t every day an acrobat fell but supposedly it was possible. Frustration was thick in Dick’s voice when he said, “I’ve had enough with this goddamn knee.”

“I know.” Damian had heard all about Dick’s earlier days as Nightwing and about how he’d been shot in the same knee. He took pity on Dick and wrapped an arm around the older man, who slung his arm around Damian’s neck.

Together they hobbled to the bathroom where he could be patched up. Dick sat on the toilet with his leg propped up on the adjacent bathtub. From the cupboard above the sink Damian pulled some pain killers, which Dick refused. “I don’t want any of those.”

“Take them anyway,” Damian demanded.

“I really don’t-“

Dick was suddenly the victim of a very strong, intense glare. “I _will not_ deal with you if you can’t sleep because your knee hurts and you won’t take care of yourself, and then you become a whiny bitchy baby. So take the pills or I’ll force feed them to you. You’re not going anywhere in your state anyway, for all we know you’ve fractured it or something.”

He pressed a glass of fresh water into Dick’s hand and 3 pills from the bottle, and then stared him down until he swallowed them.

After he’d just about checked every crevice of the bathroom, Damian found the first aid hidden behind a stack of towels in the closet. He pulled out the alcohol, cotton and gauze bandages. Dick didn’t even flinch when the alcohol soaked cotton dabbed into his open wound. It happened so often to all of them.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Dee,” Dick said quietly.

“Of course I do Grayson, you’re a mess.”

“Am not!” They exchanged brief grins. There was a comfortable silence between them while Damian finished the bandaging and started drawing water in the bath.

“You still have your brace and crutches, right?”

Dick nodded and pointed back towards the bedroom. “Closet.”

“Alright. Don’t mess up my bandages and don’t get it wet,” Damian said before heading back to the bedroom.

As expected, the closet was a huge reminder of how much of a slob Dick Grayson actually was. Nothing was organized and everything had been haphazardly thrown in. He rolled his eyes and sighed as he dug his way into the back, where the crutches were predictably stacked in a corner. The brace was also close to it, on top of a relatively large box.

Damian hadn’t meant to open it, but the lid was already half off and it slid open when he grabbed for the knee brace. He furrowed his brow, recognizing the contents immediately as a costume. Not usually one for snooping, Damian couldn’t get himself to leave it alone.

It was dark red in color, with markings similar to Dick’s old black and blue Nightwing costume, but it wasn’t the same. There was a half cowl attached to it and it didn’t seem well used at all.

He laid it back into the box, intending to ask about it later.

After he pulled a pair of sweats out, Damian left the knee brace on top of the dresser and took the crutches back to Dick in the bathroom. He was already in the tub with nothing but bubbles keeping him mildly modest, his knee propped over the side and out of the water like he was told. Dick’s eyes were closed, relaxed.

“Thanks,” he said, almost slurring his words into the water. The pain medications were obviously kicking in.

“Don’t drown,” Damian told him and ran his fingers quickly through Dick’s damp hair. “I won’t save you.”


End file.
